“Lyric? Is that you?” She closed her eyes as a wave of recognition overcame her. Shawn Perry, her ex-boyfriend, strolled over to her, a wide, lascivious grin on his face.
He gave her a lengthy once-over, an action that once would’ve made her feel desirable but now made her nauseous. “You look good. You’d look better if you were with me instead of him.” He gestured toward where Luca had gone, and Lyric swallowed hard, caught between freezing or fleeing. He’s trying to act like nothing has changed, like he didn’t— “C’mon, babe, don’t play hard to get.” He took her hand, and she made her decision.
“Don’t touch me, Shawn!” She pulled her hand back like a cobra preparing to strike. “What the hell are you even doing here anyway?” she demanded. “I thought you were going to take over Wall Street.”
“Visiting,” he answered, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Apparently, men enjoyed working out shirtless at this particular gym. “Gotta say, I expected a warmer welcome.” He looked her over again as if the change in her personality would be evident on her body. She ground her teeth together, summoning her courage.
“Screw you. You’re the one that broke up with me over text message.” Apparently noticing the impending drama, people around them stopped what they were doing, openly staring at Lyric and Shawn. His mouth dropped open as if surprised she’d air their dirty laundry so publicly, but he recovered quickly.
“It’s not like you gave me much of a choice—you were being a tease, and you wouldn’t put out! A guy has needs, you know.” She stared openmouthed at him, debating if it would be possible to punch him without getting arrested.
“There you are!” They both turned to find Carrie coming toward them, her hair swaying behind her. She put a comforting hand on Lyric’s shoulder. “Sorry I’m late.” Is she . . . covering for me? The redhead turned to Lyric’s ex, her expression stormy.
“Shawn, right? You’d better leave my friend here alone, or I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll be farting from your mouth.” The peanut gallery oohed in response, and Shawn glared at them.
“Fine. She isn’t worth it anyway.” He checked out the redhead, forgetting Lyric completely. “I’m Shawn, and you are?”
“Taken, and even if I was single, I’m not interested in womanizing douchebags,” Carrie stated coldly, scowling. “Get out of my sight, scumbag.” He frowned but didn’t say anything else before he turned and shoulder-checked Luca forcefully as he came back from the shower.
Water dripped from the tips of Luca’s blond hair, but he was dressed, clean, and smelled like petrichor and mint from the piece of gum he’d popped into his mouth. Lyric couldn’t help herself. She practically fell into his arms, craving his warmth like a dehydrated man in need of water.
“Hey, hey. What happened?” he asked her quietly, and Lyric barely held back a sob. She shook her head and furrowed deeper into his chest. He didn’t say anything else to her, pressing his chin into her scalp.
“I—he—” She choked back a sob.
“Some douchebag was harassing her, and based on her reaction, I’m guessing they knew each other,” Carrie informed Luca, who narrowed his eyes.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” Lyric informed them, and Luca’s expression darkened, recalling what Lyric had told him. He turned his head toward where Shawn had disappeared to, jaw clenched. Lyric watched the decision play out on his face, sighing in relief when he simply tightened his hug.
Carrie shifted her weight, moving her gym bag from one shoulder to the other. “Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have a workout to do.” She walked away without another word, red hair swishing behind her like a waterfall of fire.
“You have to go too,” Lyric reminded him, and Luca nodded absently, still staring after Shawn. “He’s not worth it.”
“No, but you are,” Luca replied, and Lyric smiled softly.
“I appreciate that, but I don’t need you to defend my virtue. I’ll handle him when I’m good and ready. He just caught me off guard.” She pulled back and held his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Behold Rhonda the Honda!” Luca spread his arms out to encompass the car, and Lyric couldn’t help but laugh. She felt raw from her exchange with Shawn, but Luca soothed the wound just by being himself. He leaned over to open the passenger side door for her, and her heart fluttered in spite of herself. The inside of the car was surprisingly spotless, though she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting considering it wasn’t technically his car. They were quiet except for the radio and the sounds of traffic passing them.
“So . . . Carrie. Is that something she does often? Helping virtual strangers combat their traumatic pasts?” She couldn’t resist glancing at Luca out of the corner of her eye.
“She’d tell you that it’s what she lives for, but in reality, she’s never met a challenge she could ignore,” Luca replied, smiling softly. “Growing up, the three of us—Rider, Carrie, and I—were inseparable, especially because Henry often stayed late at our house, so Carrie got used to spending the night in the guest room.” Lyric’s brow furrowed, and he must have anticipated her confusion, because he added, “Her mom died when she was really little, and she doesn’t have any other relatives, so her dad got full custody. Until a few years ago, I’d considered her to be a distant family member. That was, until we went to junior prom together and she told me she’d been crushing on me for years. That made me reevaluate my feelings a bit. We decided to give the dating thing a try, though we’ve never been Facebook official or anything.” He must have sensed her worry, because he reached across the center console to squeeze her hand. “The end of our relationship has nothing to do with you. This thing between us started when I was free as a bird, so to speak.”
“Speaking of . . . what exactly are we doing, Luca? We haven’t even been on a date, but we’ve shared more special moments in a few weeks than most couples do in their first year.”
“Well, do you want to go on a date?”
For some reason, the question startled her, so she stammered, “W-what?”
“You heard me.”
“I, uh. Sure.” She bit the inside of her cheek, her heart careening against her ribcage like a drunken vault runner tripping over the obstacles.
“We can work out the details later,” he said after a minute, shooting her a warm smile. She smiled hesitantly back, and he loosened his hold on her hand. “I’m nervous too; I’ve just got a better poker face than you do,” he added, and she deflated. She hadn’t even realized that was what she was feeling until he’d said something. They sat in companionable silence for the rest of the ride.
Eventually, the car slowed, and Lyric watched as Luca pulled onto the highway exit ramp, turning right once they came to the main intersection. The brakes squealed ever so slightly outside of the sanitarium, and Luca saw Rider immediately. Before she could stop him, he honked the horn, startling Rider out of whatever he’d been doing on his phone. When he saw Luca, he scowled playfully, getting up, checking behind him, and then sliding into the backseat.
“You would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. Don’t even bother lying.” Rider snorted as he buckled his seatbelt. “Rider, this is Lyric. Lyric, Rider.”
“Hi,” she said awkwardly, noting that his smile had turned into a frown. Is he mad because Luca brought me with him? His gaze fell on the sanitarium’s entrance, and his expression darkened even more.
“Hi, Lyric. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name, since Luca’s done nothing but talk about you for weeks—” The music suddenly maxed out, and Lyric cringed away from the sudden noise. Luca turned it back down immediately, but whatever Rider was going to say had been lost in translation.
Once they were on the highway, Rider’s shoulders slumped, which made Luca realize they’d been tense in the first place. Before he could say anything, though, Rider changed the subject. “So, someone destroyed your artwork, and my brother offered to help. Any updates on that?” Lyric’s heart lifted. He sounded genuin
ely interested and concerned about it.
“Well, the police have been useless,” Luca commented idly, and Rider rolled his eyes.
“That’s on you for expecting so much of the Claymoor PD,” he replied.
“I expected the bare minimum, and they couldn’t even do that.” Luca sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll figure it out, though. One way or another.” Lyric wished she could share his confidence.
They spent the rest of the ride conversing about various things, and Lyric marveled at how comfortable she was around Rider despite being relative strangers.
“You know, you kind of remind me of my own brother.” Lyric told Rider what she had been thinking.
“I hope that’s a good thing,” he said, and Lyric laughed.
“It is.”
After Luca dropped Lyric off at her house, Rider moved up to the passenger seat and patted him on the back.
“She’s nice, Luc. I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah.” Before Rider could say anything else, Luca put the car in park outside of the Sherwood house. Rider stared up at it, his expression paling at the sight of golden light streaming from the windows. “If only I was old enough to rent a hotel room,” he grumbled, but got out of the car, only for Dick to come charging outside toward him. Luca immediately jogged toward their father, standing in front of Rider once again. Give me a reason. He stared him down. Please give me a reason. He wouldn’t, though. He never did.
“Both of you. Get inside now.” He stomped ahead of them, and the two brothers followed, sharing matching expressions of worry and annoyance. “What the fuck am I paying them for if they can’t keep you locked up where you belong?” he demanded once they were behind soundproofed walls.
“Despite what you think, Dad, asylums aren’t anything like they are in the movies. If I can prove—which I did—that I’m not a danger to myself or others, they can’t legally hold me.”
“What kind of crackpot psychiatrists do they have working there, anyway? Fine, if they won’t keep you, then I’ll make sure you stay out of the spotlight, locked up here so you can’t embarrass me further!” their dad raged, at least until their mom strolled into the room and addressed him.
“Richard.” Her slippers had been nearly soundless on the impeccably clean hardwood floor. Her lavender robe ended at the middle of her thighs, and her hair was halfway pulled up into a bun. It was the most disheveled their mom had looked in a long time, possibly ever. “The time for you to accept Rider’s diagnosis is long past. Now it’s getting ridiculous. I understand the pressure you’re under, but we aren’t your prisoners, and you aren’t a warden.”
“How could you possibly understand the pressure I’m under?!” Dick demanded, his anger turning molten. “I’ve just announced my candidacy for president, and now all eyes are on me. On us. We all have roles to play, and it seems like I’m the only one that understands that!”
“Richard, please. Rider needs medicine, not violence or isolation. He needs compassion.” Richard made a noise of disbelief, and he shook his head bemusedly as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. To be fair, neither could Luca. Was their mom going to follow through on her threat to leave?
Luca prayed to whoever was listening. Rider appeared shell-shocked, his body vibrating with rage and despair in equal measures. “There are a million better ways to handle this than anything you’ve come up with.” Mom’s voice rattled, but her posture remained firm. “I’m taking the boys to my parents’ until you can decide on your priorities.” Dick’s face drained of color.
“Margie, don’t be irrational. You know what will happen if the paparazzi catches you leaving without me.” A single tear fell down Marjorie’s cheek, and she turned toward her sons. “Go pack your things and meet me at the Honda.” She turned back to Richard, who still looked like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening in front of him.
Rider and Luca bolted in opposite directions, Rider toward his bedroom and Luca toward the basement. They grabbed duffel bags and shoved as much clothing and other necessities as they could carry. Daisy stuffed her nose into Luca’s duffel as he tried to close it, and he absently patted her head.
“Sorry, girl. I don’t think we can bring you.” Daisy issued a pitiful whine, and Luca made a decision. I don’t care if we can or can’t bring her. She’s coming. I don’t trust Dad to take care of her, especially since we don’t know how long we’ll be gone. He gathered as much of her stuff as he could carry and latched her leash to her collar. They left through the basement door and threw their things into Rhonda’s trunk. They anxiously awaited their mom—well, Luca and Rider did. Daisy wagged her tail obliviously, excited to ride in the car.
Mom came out a few moments later, her purse teeming with the belongings she could fit, and she urged the boys to get in the car. Daisy stretched herself out across both of their laps, and Mom peeled out of the driveway like she was driving a getaway car. No one said a word until they were a block away. The streetlights caught the bruise on Marjorie’s face before either Luca or Rider did.
“He hit you?” Luca demanded, and Marjorie’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Mom.”
“Luc, chill out,” Rider advised. “Can’t you tell she’s going through a lot?” Luca did a double take, and when he did, he noticed the taut line of tension that encompassed Marjorie’s entire form. It seemed like she was barely holding herself together. Luca exhaled, valiantly attempting to assure his mother that it wasn’t her he was angry at. Rider leaned back in his seat, staring out the window at the twinkling stars and full, low-hanging moon. Nobody said anything, and Luca did his best to stifle his fear as they approached the bridge.
Chapter Ten
Impromptu trip to NJ. Tell you more later. he texted Lyric, counting backward from ten each time the car hit a bump on the bridge. He swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately not to flinch each time the bridge groaned under the weight of multiple speeding cars. Once they reached smooth ground, Luca got a text back from Lyric. He opened his eyes to read it and smiled to himself.
Ok. Pork roll or Taylor ham?
Pork roll, he texted back immediately.
A thumbs-up emoji served as her answer, and soon they were playing a game of twenty questions but limiting them to “this or that.” Lyric didn’t pry, and Luca was grateful. He wasn’t even sure how to explain what was going on in a way that made any logical sense. Before he knew it, Marjorie had pulled to a stop outside of her childhood home.
A ranch-style home with a spacious patio, the Gardener home had one story, a barely there sloped roof, and an enviable lawn manicured by a local gardening company. The front door opened before she’d even turned off the ignition, and they all jogged to the door. Well, Daisy paused to do her business on the lawn, but once she was done, she happily greeted Marjorie’s mother and the boys’ maternal grandmother.
“Margie,” Yvonne Gardener said once they were close enough to hear her. She wrapped cold hands around each of their arms and held them in bear hugs for several seconds.
“Oh . . . ,” she tutted over Marjorie’s purpling bruise. “Luca, Rider, as handsome as ever. Oh, and hello, Daisy. You sweet girl, you have no idea what’s happening, do you?” Yvonne patted Daisy’s head, and the dog lapped at the soft skin of her hand, obviously finding something she liked.
“Hey, Grams,” Luca offered, and Rider said the same, attempting a brave smile.
“Yvonne? Are they here?” the gruff voice of Bill Gardener called from inside the house. Soon enough, he joined his wife at the door, his expression softening instantly when his eyes settled on his daughter.
“Hi, Dad,” she said quietly, curling her hair behind her ear. His gaze landed on the bruise, and he clenched his jaw.
“I’ll kill him,” he growled, and Yvonne turned to him.
“You’ll do no such thing, William Zachary Gardener,” she said severely, not bothering to mince words. “What Margie needs right no
w is safety, not more violence. Why don’t you go check on the lasagna?” With a frown and a mumbled grumble, Bill limped slightly toward the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane for support. “You three, come in, come in.”
“She left me. She took the boys, Henry. She even took the dog.” Richard Sherwood leaned back in his office chair, yanking at his tie until it fell to the ground.
“Keep it together, Rick. We have to get ahead of this. We can’t let her get the upper hand,” Henry told him over the phone, his tone urgent and frustrated at the same time.
“She’s not some political rival, she’s my wife. They’re my children,” Rick replied. “You know, maybe this isn’t worth it.”
“Don’t talk like that. We’ve worked too hard to get you where you are.”
“You’ve worked too hard. I haven’t done a damned thing, haven’t even taken a piss without your permission for years.”
“And have I ever steered you wrong?” Henry asked rhetorically. “You’re the one who said you wanted to be president. I’m just doing everything in my power to make sure that happens.”
“That was years ago! When will you stop holding that over me?” Rick didn’t wait for a response. “But at what cost? My family? My integrity?”
“Don’t be dramatic. This will blow over, and Marjorie will come crawling back. She has it too good not to.”
“I hit her,” Rick admitted. “I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t stop myself.”
“She deserved it,” Henry soothed, sounding distracted. “I’m on my way over to you. Just don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
Rich scents of tomato, meat, and cheese permeated the Gardener living room, the oven’s heat warm and welcoming despite the humidity outside. Like most ranch houses, the style was open and quite wide. The kitchen was immediately to the left, and the living room, straight ahead, while the dining room was set for company on the right. The evening news was playing on the ancient TV in the corner, and Luca couldn’t help but smile. He and Rider hadn’t been to their grandparents’ house since they were quite young. It hadn’t changed one bit since then, and that was a small comfort. Luca leaned down to let Daisy off her leash, and she immediately began investigating all the new smells, eventually gravitating toward the kitchen to beg for human food.
Find You There Page 10
